


And In The Light of Day

by sarahstarkiller



Series: Lorelei [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove cries a lot, Billy Hargrove is Bad at Communicating, Billy Hargrove is an emotional mess, Boys In Love, Getting Together, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, it's canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-05 21:56:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20280457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahstarkiller/pseuds/sarahstarkiller
Summary: “Speaking of idiots… when can I see you again?”“You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?”





	And In The Light of Day

**Author's Note:**

> Billy's thighs get some action. It's what they deserve.

It’s way too big. Just one huge, gaudy golden basketball on a wooden base, declaring Hawkins High the champions. It’s stupid looking, but Steve is still proud of their enormous, ugly trophy. The janitor glances back at him, his hand still wiping the window of the trophy case as he eyes Steve curiously. Likely wondering why a kid his age is sticking around after school to admire such a hideous thing. Steve suddenly feels self-conscious so he turns on his heel and heads out to the parking lot.

Two weeks have passed since the championship. Two weeks since he scored the winning point, a free throw made with seven seconds left on the clock, Tommy on his right, staring at him with wide eyes, Billy on his left, grinning from ear to ear. They were all tied up when Steve was fouled and missed his first shot. Bounced right off the rim. His gut sank and he thought,  _ ‘It’s over, it’s over and it’s all my fault.’ _ But Billy sank his teeth into his lip and stepped toward him, squeezed his shoulder and nodded once. That was all the encouragement Steve had needed, apparently. He made the second shot, meaning they won by one single point. Basically, he put that ugly ass trophy in the case himself.

There’s a party at Tommy’s tonight and Steve’s invited, along with the rest of the team and the majority of their senior class. He had told Tommy to put him down as a  _ maybe, _ but later that same day Billy cornered him at his locker and said  _ he’d _ be there which, to Steve, was an invitation all by itself. Enough to get him to track Tommy down and change that  _ maybe _ to a  _ yes. _

While Steve tears his closet apart in search of a decent outfit, he ponders Billy’s recent behavior.

The seconds after the buzzer sounded are a blur, but back in the hotel room, Billy had waited all the hours it took to be certain that Tommy and Eddy were asleep before he basically leapt out of bed and onto Steve. Kissed him until Steve forgot where he was and whispered all these praises about  _ “King Steve,”  _ how he was going to give Steve  _ “the royal treatment,”  _ calling Steve,  _ “the best.” _ That’s the one that made Steve lose it, truth be told. He’s never been anyone’s best.

But the moment they arrived back in Hawkins, it was like the weekend had never happened at all. Like Steve hadn’t won anything. Billy’s been acting weird, and not just a  _ Billy _ type of weird. No shoving, nudging, or antagonizing. Steve’s got an itch for it now, he  _ needs _ Billy to stop acting like there’s nothing between them. Steve has caught him staring a few times, almost looking sad about something, but that’s it. He didn’t speak a single word to him until a few days ago, when he observed Steve coolly and mentioned Tommy’s party.

Tommy’s party.  _ Focus. _ He narrows his outfit choices down to three possible shirts with two pants options. He tries them on, switches them up, and then ultimately tosses it all aside and picks out an entirely different outfit. Black pants with a white shirt and a brown jacket. Then he tears it off and showers, very aware of the fact that he’s never put  _ this _ much effort into his appearance before. He tries his very best to convince himself that it has nothing to do with impressing Billy.

He even goes so far as to trim  _ down there… _ just in case, or whatever.

Doing his hair takes double the amount of time it usually does, and he slaps on his favorite cologne before heading off, buzzing with this intoxicating concoction of excitement and uncertainty. He thinks briefly of Billy’s foot against his knee, telling him something so deliberate and secretive.

The party is already well underway when Steve waltzes in, trying not to make it obvious that he’s looking for Billy. He finds a drink before greeting anybody and then goes through the motions; lets Tommy clap him on the back as he drunkenly reflects on the championship to a group of junior girls that weren’t invited; Eddy hangs off his girlfriend and goes on a rant about how he and Steve should really hang out soon; Nancy and Jonathan save him by the time he’s buzzed and watching Carol dance on the kitchen counter.

“Steve? Are you listening?”

Steve blinks at Jonathan who smirks at him, eyes red from the joint he shared with Nancy earlier.

“What’s got you so distracted?” Nancy smiles over the rim of her solo cup. “Too busy basking in all the glory of your victory?”

“Sure,” Steve answers and gives up scanning faces in the crowd. “Can’t get too caught up in talking to you losers.”

Nancy and Jonathan dissolve into laughter, and Steve can’t help but giggle along with them.

He spends another hour with the lovebirds, trying to shove his disappointment aside. Maybe Billy left early, or maybe something came up and he couldn’t make it. Whatever the case may be, Steve mopes about it and finds himself sneaking away from the party onto the back patio. Breathing in the cool night air, leaning against the wooden railing as he watches his breath float upwards toward the stars. He’s pretty sure the Cocteau Twins are playing inside, the music muffled and ethereal but just loud enough to hide the sound of the back door opening and closing.

His back is covered by another person pressing right up against him and he startles before their hands slide over his arms to cover his own hands on the railing.

And he’s wearing those goddamn fingerless gloves.

“It’s suffocating in there,” Steve sighs, leaning into the warm touch.

“Only if you try to breathe,” Billy muses in that tired, all-knowing voice of his. He steps away from Steve and sits down in a wicker chair.

“The fuck does that mean?” Steve chuckles and sits beside Billy.

Scrunching his nose, Billy simply shrugs and laughs with him. Steve takes in the whole sight of him and  _ fuck it _ he’s the handsomest thing he’s ever seen, probably. Definitely. He’s got a white button up on under his leather jacket, some faded blue jeans, and his black boots. His hair is all big and curly and Steve just barely forces his hand down,  _ don’t touch. _ He wishes he could see Billy better in the moonlight, wants more than anything to see those freckles he  _ knows _ he has scattered over his nose and cheeks.

What’s more thrilling than taking in Billy’s appearance is watching him obviously do the same to Steve, who tries not to tremble under his gaze. Billy’s tongue darts out over his lip, his teeth following to nibble before he reaches out and touches Steve’s arm.

“Pretty,” he admires, voice barely audible. “The jacket, I mean.”

“Here I was thinking you were calling me pretty…”

“The jacket’s pretty, but you’re gorgeous, Harrington.”

It’s as if Billy stole all the oxygen from Steve’s lungs with his words alone. He has no fucking clue what to say to that, so he just stares dumbly at Billy while he lights a cigarette and goes on to say, “Only came to this thing ‘cause you said you’d be here, you know? No other reason to show up.”

Steve snorts. “You’re such a charismatic captain, Billy. Imagine if the others heard you say that.”

“Fuck ‘em,” Billy giggles and nudges Steve. “Fuck Tommy! Fuck them all. It’s me and you all the way, Stevie.”

Steve’s abdomen aches with laughter. “Jesus, I think Tommy’s doing enough celebrating for the both of us. You’d think he actually contributes something to the team with the way he’s acting.”

Billy cackles and Steve’s chest fills with pride at the sound. “What an idiot…” Billy offers his cigarette to Steve.

Taking a drag, Steve regards Billy seriously. His eyes are, like, sparkling. Fucking  _ twinkling. _ “Speaking of idiots… when can I see you again?”

He doesn’t have the nerve to watch Billy as his words land. He looks at Billy’s knee, exposed by a rip in his jeans. He’s kissed the guy on the mouth but he still doesn’t have the guts to expose how he feels, down to his deepest desires and most incriminating dreams. He knows what his calloused hands feel like on him but he can’t admit that he’s dying to hold it, that it’s been wrapped around his throat for so long without Billy even knowing it. And he thinks very quickly about Billy telling him that he  _ wanted _ him, but just how far does that want extend?

Steve works up the courage to meet Billy’s eyes again, and they’re still shining true and bright under the stars. “You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?”

His gut twists but he doesn’t let that deter him. “You know what I mean.”

Billy’s face is almost a perfect picture of acquiescence. “‘Course I do.”

That hangs in the air between them for a moment that stretches into many, many moments, it seems, all which could either make or break Steve.

Billy rises to his feet and Steve’s stomach sinks just like it did when he missed that first goddamn free throw. He tries to look unbothered by any of it.

“You’ll see me when you see me,” Billy answers at last and winks at him. It sets a small fire of hope inside Steve’s chest and between his ribs.

He grins at Billy because, as frustrating as he is, damn it if he’s not nice to look at. And Billy smiles back. He almost looks  _ shy _ before heading back inside.

Steve sits in the dead silence and again gazes up at the stars, wondering, thoughts and emotions all scrambled. His fingers play with Billy’s cigarette and he barely has time to turn toward the sound of the back door opening yet again. Warm fingers turn his jaw to the side and he keeps his eyes open while Billy plants a single, lingering kiss on his lips and then leaves for good.

Suddenly, that hopeful fire is blazing inside him, coursing through his veins. He thinks about Billy’s necklace swinging above his face like some promise of excitement and smiles to himself.

~

Two days after Tommy’s party, Steve falls to pieces.

It’s almost midnight when he hears it — the light  _ tap… tap _ of pebbles against his bedroom window. At first, he thinks it’s rain pattering softly outside, but after listening closely for a few more moments, he just knows what and  _ who _ it is. He untangles himself from his sheets and stumbles out of bed to open his window, letting in a rush of cool air. He looks out at his lawn below and there stands Billy Hargrove looking like a prince from a storybook, a hero of the night.

“How romantic,” Steve calls to him, ‘cause his parents aren’t home yet, and the neighbors… well, screw the neighbors. “You’re a real Romeo, Hargrove.”

“Are you calling yourself Juliet?” Billy cocks his hip for a moment before sauntering up to the side of the house and climbing on up like it’s no big deal at all. Steve can’t help but feel amazed.

Billy steps through the open window all casual and Steve takes a step back before Billy says, “Because you’ve got the looks…”

His heart hammers away in his chest and then he’s grabbing Billy by his denim jacket and kissing him, melting against his mouth. Billy sighs before slipping his tongue in to taste Steve, and Steve wants to ask him,  _ “What  _ took _ you so long?” _

But he doesn’t say a word; there’s no need to speak. They kiss one another like they’re lovers, coming together after another endless day apart,  _ I missed you so much. _

Steve knows, however, that they are not lovers, not in the way he’d like them to be, anyway.  _ ‘He said he wanted you,’  _ he reminds himself and then shoves those thoughts away for another time when they end up on his bed, Billy’s back to his chest. He kisses Billy’s neck, wraps his arms around him and noses at his curls, a thousand golden halos around his head.

He’s already trembling for it when Billy grinds his denim-clad ass back into Steve’s erection, making them both sigh. And through some desperate maneuvering Billy’s belt is undone, his jeans shoved down just past his ass and Steve wants to  _ see _ him. He wants to turn him around. The moonlight only reveals so much.

Steve’s fingers trail over the curve of Billy’s ass, shaking, almost reverent in the way he touches him. And he knows exactly what he wants to do, but Billy takes his wrist, stopping him before he can do anything else.

“I’m not ready for that,” he admits. The vulnerability in his voice shocks Steve, makes him wonder if it’s really  _ Billy _ lying against him. “You’ll ruin me.”

There are no words to convey what Steve is thinking, feeling. He stares wide-eyed at Billy’s hand gripping his wrist. “Okay… we don’t have to… ”

_ Ruin him? _ Steve’s not sure what Billy means, exactly. It’s so unlike the Billy he’d been with in that hotel room, all cocky and sure of himself. He almost teases Billy for it, but it somehow feels unfair to do that. He doesn’t know what he did wrong, or what he did right, or if it has anything to do with him at all.

Billy’s leading Steve’s hand to take his cock before he can ask, and he’s more than happy to do this for Billy. To feel the way his dick throbs in his hand and the way he shudders against him on the upstroke.

“I can still get you off,” Billy whispers as if they have to be quiet. “Take your pants off, baby boy.”

Steve kicks his sweats off at breakneck speed and watches in awe as Billy reaches back to take Steve’s cock, runs his thumb over his slit and spreads the wetness over the length of it. Steve’s hand strokes Billy idly, wonderstruck when Billy parts his thighs and scoots back to fit Steve’s cock between them.

He gets the gist of what he’s meant to do and a thrill shoots through him. He thrusts experimentally at first, shallow and gentle, and he groans because  _ fuck. _ Thrusts again, this time deeper, groaning, desire pooling deep in his belly. He’s hot all over because Billy’s thighs are so thick and he’s slicking them up with his own pre-come. Billy squeezes his thighs together just a little tighter and presses back into Steve, driving him wild.

Steve swiftly builds up a rhythm, fucking into Billy’s thighs while he strokes his cock all nice and easy, relishing the whimpers and groans Billy tries to muffle in Steve’s pillow.

“You can be as loud as you want, y’know,” Steve smiles into his hair and then uses his unoccupied hand to tilt Billy’s jaw up. Forces his face away from his pillow and tries to get a glimpse of his gorgeous face before kissing him, letting him make all the sounds he wants, right into his mouth.

When their mouths come apart, Billy slips his hand back behind Steve’s head, grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck. Steve can feel that Billy’s moments from coming in the way he shakes, can hear it when he moans softly. His thighs tense and tremble around Steve’s cock.

Steve, unable to help himself, groans into Billy’s ear and blurts, “Keep makin’ those pretty noises for me.”

Billy whimpers and then comes all over Steve’s knuckles, and Steve thinks he can  _ feel _ it in his core. He wishes he could record the sound of his name on Billy’s tongue as he whispers it, thighs clenching.

A few more thrusts and Billy’s grip in his hair pushes Steve over the edge. He comes, coating Billy’s thighs, moaning softly.

In his post-orgasm high he almost  _ thanks _ Billy, but there’s no time for it because Billy’s kissing him until Steve is asleep, hand still covered in Billy’s come, pressed up against him.

When he wakes, it’s barely light outside. Billy is gone, of course, but there’s a torn piece of notebook paper taped to his open window. Steve leans over, tears it down, and reads the phone number that’s written there.

It’s signed,  _ “Your Romeo.” _

~

A routine emerges as naturally as the sun at dawn.

Some nights go like the first one: Billy will slip in as quiet as the moon rising and they’ll blow each other, exchange handjobs, make out till their jaws ache and their lips are numb, whatever. They never do more than that, and Steve is happy.

Some nights they’re content with telling stupid jokes and giggling until one of them falls asleep. Rare are the nights when they talk seriously about things  _ (What were you like as a kid? Do you believe in God? What does your mom look like? Can I meet your parents?), _ and rarer still are the nights when Billy comes in and doesn’t speak a word. Just settles in beside Steve as quick as he can and either kisses him or presses his face into his chest.

It’s on one of  _ those  _ nights that Steve sort of accidentally takes Billy’s face in his hands and feels the wet trail of tears streaming down his cheeks. The moonlight hits his face just so and illuminates his red-rimmed eyes. There’s pure defeat there and Steve’s mind blanks. Billy’s breath hitches.

In that moment, Steve ultimately decides to speak nothing of it. He just goes on like nothing is different.

But everything is different. Certainly nothing is the same, and it hasn’t been since Billy Hargrove asked him,  _ “You still nervous?” _

No matter what they say or do, Steve cherishes every night with Billy, even though he knows it’s slowly killing him. He wants to kiss Billy whenever, hold his hand, listen to his stories, know that he’s his. It’s unrealistic but that doesn’t stop him from wanting it. They have an unspoken agreement to ignore each other at school, to wait for nighttime when they can be alone and together and bare.

Steve craves more, more than he thinks Billy’s willing to give. He had told Steve that he wanted him for a long time, longer than Steve had wanted Billy, but Steve doesn’t think that’s entirely true. No, he’s been aching for Billy since forever, it seems.

It’s this ache that makes Steve whisper on one of their nights together, unprompted, “I could fuck you, you know.”

Billy stares up at Steve, dumbfounded. They’d been rolling around in Steve’s bed before Steve pinned him, distracted him with kisses and then, it appears, killed the mood.

“Told you already,” Billy speaks at last. “You’ll ruin me.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I don’t know what that  _ means.” _

Baring his teeth, Billy hisses, “It means I like you, dipshit. I really fucking like you.”

At that, Steve can only keep his stupid mouth shut. He watches the way Billy flushes, from his cheeks all the way down to his neck. Something about it urges Steve to kiss Billy’s cheek, again and again until he’s fighting a losing battle to a giggle.

Grinning at the sound, Steve says, “We’ve been over this, though. I like you too… thought that was obvious…”

Billy almost looks sad about something and Steve wonders if it’s what he said. “I mean, maybe I’ll ruin you. I dunno. I’m kinda messed up myself.”

Billy lets out a genuine laugh at that. “That’s true, but that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Well, you’re not  _ saying _ anything.”

Huffing like Steve should just read between the lines and get it, Billy explains in one breath, “I like you so much, and I need you to like me just as much because if you don’t and you fuck me, I’ll be ruined forever.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“And you’re too good for me.”

That shuts Steve right up. His mouth hangs open as if to speak, but he’s lost the ability to make a sound. He wants to tell Billy he  _ does _ like him so much, but Billy is trying to push Steve off of him.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve keeps Billy pressed to his bed, trying to be both gentle and firm. “Wait. Just hold on a second.”

“Let me go, Steve.”

When Billy turns his head to the side, Steve notices the tears welling up in his eyes. And he has no fucking clue what to do except beg Billy to stay so they can sort this out. So he can figure out what’s wrong.

Steve doesn’t let go, but he does ease up enough to let Billy sit up. He doesn’t let him get away. He slips his arms around him, tugs him close and says, “Billy? What’s the matter, baby?”

Billy looks at him, jaw clenched, tears threatening to spill out over his cheeks. “Please just let me go.”

Steve doesn’t think,  _ “I don’t fucking want to” _ is a sufficient answer, so he says instead, “Please just tell me what’s wrong.”

Billy’s lip trembles and he blinks, tears finally falling and Steve’s heart breaks at the sight. Billy wipes his tears away as quickly as they streamed down his face and he says in a shuddery breath, “You make me weak, Harrington.”

Steve just feels more lost at that because it reveals nothing to him. He feels helpless and stupid; he should  _ get it. _ “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Billy lets out a surprised laugh, still crying. “I don’t know yet. It could go either way.”

And with the way Billy’s looking at him, Steve understands. He understands that Billy wants the same thing he does, except he’s really bad at saying it, apparently.

“I think it could be a good thing.” Steve wipes the tears on Billy’s face with his thumbs. “A really good thing.” He kisses Billy languidly, and keeps kissing him until his tears have dried.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from but here! have it!! two boys in love but shh they don't know that yet! also billy is very fucking soft and emotional bECAUSE I SAID SO.


End file.
